


Something Remus Lupin Should Have Done Earlier

by brandonsaad (createadisaster)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Growing Up, M/M, Marauders' Era, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-18
Updated: 2012-03-18
Packaged: 2017-11-02 03:16:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/createadisaster/pseuds/brandonsaad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’ll miss the squid,” James starts.</p><p>“I’ll miss the library,” Remus adds.</p><p>“I’ll miss Minnie,” Sirius offers.</p><p>“I’ll miss <i>you.</i>” Peter says what they’re all thinking, and there is a brief moment where there are not four individual boys there, but one single being, with an overwhelming love and sense of togetherness, and none of them could say who started it but suddenly they are all tangled together, laughing and crying and wrestling on the edge of the lake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Remus Lupin Should Have Done Earlier

Remus does not remember ever seeing the moon and liking it. He remembers fear, and hatred, and pain. The anger has faded, and the pain too. The fear has not. He was old enough when he was bitten that by all means he _should_ remember the moon before, but he does not. He envies those who can look at the sky and smile, and bask in the beauty and wonder that is the whole universe, with countless mysteries and ideas and molecules. There is so much to discover in the sky, and he wants no part of any of it.

He envies Sirius, especially, who once pointed up at one dot in this endless expanse of them, and smiled, and said, “That’s my star.” Remus had forced himself to look up, and then had looked back at Sirius instead, and for the thousandth time that day, he had wished he could kiss him.

Today, he still wishes he could kiss him.

He knows he can’t. He knows he never will. Remus does not have time for probably, and he does not have the patience for hoping. Remus has resigned himself to the fact that he will never kiss him.

But his gaze strays to Sirius’ mouth when he speaks, when he eats, when he chews on his quill. He looks when he laughs, and when he grins, and when he sticks out his tongue at James. Sometimes he looks too long, and Sirius tilts his head to the side and asks a question without words, and Remus looks away, and does not answer it.

There are two months before final exams. There are two months before they are done with Hogwarts forever, and Remus does not know what he’s going to do with himself. He will not be able to get a job in the Wizarding world, because he is a werewolf, and he is a monster, and it doesn’t matter that he didn’t want this, and doesn’t want this, and can’t abide the idea that he would ever hurt anyone, he is never going to be normal.

He has given up on being angry about it. He knows there is no good in staying angry. He has seen people let the anger eat them up. He does not want to be owned by his anger, and so he forces himself to let it go.

Sirius does not understand, and he rants and he raves and he’s furious that Remus, this hard-working and intelligent and talented boy, has no future because of a choice he never made. He hates the world for not letting Remus have a shot, and when he is fuming about how remarkably unfair it is, Remus wants to kiss him.

There is one month before final exams, and of course Remus has started studying. The others tease him for it, but he thinks that maybe if he studies hard enough, he could be something. He toys with the idea of law, or medicine, or education, and every time he lets himself think too hard, he remembers that he cannot do any of it. But he keeps studying, and tells himself he is not _really_ hoping for anything, but James and Peter exchange looks and they _know_ , and he buries himself in his books and pretends that he doesn’t.

There are two weeks before final exams, and Remus is not studying, and Peter is not studying, and James and Sirius are not studying, because it is the last full moon that they will ever have together, like this, at Hogwarts. There is a strange sort of nostalgia attached to this hateful, hateful thing, and Remus remembers the first time Sirius told him what they’d done, that they had worked and practiced and managed to turn themselves into animals, and he wouldn’t have to be alone anymore.

They were fifteen then, and it was, sort of embarrassingly, not the first time Remus wanted to kiss him. (It was, however, a pretty significant moment of realization.)

They are seventeen now, and Remus is antsy and uncomfortable and waiting for the moon to rise, for it to begin, and he closes his eyes for a moment, and his breath is ripped from him as his body twists and turns and his bones rearrange themselves until he is a creature he does not recognize. He screams, and then he howls.

He wakes up in the Shack, not alone as usual, but with a large, shaggy dog curled up around him. He is usually cold, but not today, not with this great ball of fur and heat all pressed up around his body. He always feels broken after the moon; he feels like he’s got too many angles and too many bones, and not enough skin to cover them all.

Today is a little better.

He doesn’t hurt quite as badly as usual, for which he is grateful, and he slowly sits up and scratches behind the dog’s ears. “Padfoot,” he whispers, “wake up.” Big black eyes open slowly, then there is a Sirius in his lap, a quite naked one, and Remus is also quite naked, and there is just a lot of skin on skin business and Remus turns red.

“Morning,” Sirius mumbles into Remus’ neck, and arms tighten around his shoulders, and Remus is helplessly trying and failing to form words. Sirius adjusts his position a bit, meeting Remus’ eyes. “How are you feeling? How was it?"

Remus is in no position to provide a coherent response. Sirius just has _so much skin_ , and it’s smooth and warm and all over, and Remus knows from stolen glances in the mornings that it’s flawless, and he’s got his eyes shut tight so he doesn’t have to think about this.

“Remus?” He prompts, and when Remus dares to open his eyes, there are pink lips _right there_ , and they’re slightly open, and Remus scrambles out from under him, frantically searching the room for the clothes he’d carefully set out the night before, and yanking them on as quickly as he can.

He winces and yelps when a movement of his shoulder tears open a cut, and Sirius is darting across the room, as though being six feet closer could somehow let him take the pain away. “That’s going to scar,” he says quietly, and Remus looks at it and sighs for a moment. His eyes flick back up to Sirius, who clearly just is not going to bother with resolving that whole issue of nudity, and Remus turns red again and looks away.

There is one week before final exams, and Remus has been torn between wanting to hide from the world and cherish the last time he gets with these boys. They will still see each other when they leave here, but it won’t ever be the same again, and his heart aches when he thinks too much about it. If there are tears shed when trunks start being packed, no one mentions it.

They have finished their last test, and there is a party in the common room, and everyone is drunk. The youngest students are in bed, but the students who’d finished their OWLs and NEWTs, the year in between, and daring members of lower years have been sharing bottles and bottles of Firewhiskey, and there is not a sober being in the room.

Peter and James are hitting each other with shoes, and Lily is jumping on the couch with Alice, and Frank is singing rather loudly and off-key to a song no one has ever heard before.

Remus is sitting on the mantle, and he can’t quite remember how he got here, but he has found a bar of chocolate and so he is happy. Sirius climbs on a chair and then up to join him, and makes himself comfortable beside him, and he smiles at him.

They just look at each other for what feels like a thousand years, precariously perched on the mantle and they both lean in just a bit, and Remus promptly tumbles off and hits the floor, and he’s laughing and Sirius is laughing and he loses his balance too, and they are lying on the ground together and they will be bruised tomorrow but it will be okay.

The last day is drawing to a close, and they will leave the castle for the last time in an hour. They’re sitting around the lake, and their trunks are already packed into carriages, and they are looking out into the water for the last time.

“I’ll miss the squid,” James starts.

“I’ll miss the library,” Remus adds.

“I’ll miss Minnie,” Sirius offers.

“I’ll miss _you._ ” Peter says what they’re all thinking, and there is a brief moment where there are not four individual boys there, but one single being, with an overwhelming love and sense of togetherness, and none of them could say who started it but suddenly they are all tangled together, laughing and crying and wrestling on the edge of the lake.

The train ride is quiet, but a safe sort of quiet. They are together in the booth they have occupied together since their very first train ride to Hogwarts, when Sirius was swaggering about blathering on about nothing and James was throwing candies at him and Peter was awestruck by their audacity, and Remus was not speaking at all, but smiling like it was going out of style.

Today, they just sit, and they all lean back and kick their legs out and their feet are layered over each other, and there is a very big world out there but they will always have each other, and always have this moment.

When they get off the train, Sirius stops Remus before he goes through the barrier back into the station, and they are the last ones on the platform. “Remus,” he says slowly. “Remus?”

“Yes?” His voice sounds unfamiliar, and when Sirius’ hand settles on his hip, he is suddenly aware of every tiny move that either of them makes, and Sirius’ lips part ever so slightly and Remus takes in a sharp breath.

“You should have kissed me,” Sirius tells him.

Remus does not know which moment he’s referring to. Probably all of them. Sirius is a lot more observant than Remus gives him credit for. He’s thinking, he’s thinking about the shaggy black hair that really needs a trim, and dark gray eyes that are daring him to just _do it_ , and pink lips and white teeth and seven years of friendship that really hasn’t been _just_ friendship for most of that time.

There’s really only one thing to do, and so he leans in and he kisses him, and he realizes Sirius is right.

He should have done this a long time ago.


End file.
